Not a long weekend. Not a rushed holiday week, the kind where you cram
five days of work into three and then try to switch into relaxation mode
-- BAM! -- and right back to work mode on Monday without a single
interruption in service.

No, I'm dreaming of a true vacation, the kind that people take for
granted in peer countries. I'm talking about two-plus weeks away to read
novels and think one's own thoughts. I'm talking about shaking that
feeling of needing to be the perfect post-recessionary
worker: accessible, adaptable, non-dispensable.

In an ideal world, this vacation would involve moving to a cabin in the
San Juans, or a hut in Fiji, until September. Barring that, I'll aim for
one glorious week at the Oregon coast, plus a few stolen moments to
marvel over the stunning vacation policies elsewhere.

First, some context. The average private-sector employee in the U.S.
earns only 16 paid days off a year: two weeks of vacation plus six
holidays. Many employees can earn additional time off if they've been
with a company longer or have more skills. (The Oregonian
follows this practice.) But about a quarter of private-sector employees
earn no paid days off at all.

"We are a remarkably under-vacationed society," said Tim Leyden, who
works in Beaverton and worries about the lack of time off in the private
sector.

Vacation prospects can be especially dicey in smaller businesses, which
employ a big share of the Oregon workforce. Small business owners often
have the hardest time getting away, despite setting their own hours, for
fear of missing income opportunities or
letting quality slip in their absence.

It's enough to make you dream of moving to a Yes-Vacation Nation, one of
the many countries where long vacations are the norm. Some of these
countries, like Austria and Germany, have high productivity and lower unemployment; others, like Spain, are neck-deep
in economic woes. Either way, they tend to require five, six and seven
weeks of paid vacation and holidays a year for everyone, including new
workers.

The fine print of such vacation policies is even more extraordinary than the headlines:

* Consecutive weeks off. Nine European countries require employers to let
workers take much of their vacation during the desirable summer months.
Employers in Sweden and Finland, for example, are required to let their
employees take four consecutive weeks off
(!!) every summer, perhaps because it's dark outside the rest of the
year. In New Zealand, workers are entitled to two consecutive weeks as
part of 30 days of vacation and holidays, which might explain their
legendary cheerfulness.

* Extra pay for vacation. Swoon alert: Many countries don't just require
paid vacation days, but also extra money at vacation time. Austria,
Belgium, Denmark, Greece and Sweden are among the countries that require
employers to pay extra for vacations, the CEPR
report says. There's even a name for it -- the "13th month" of pay.
This helps cover your niceties like airfare, lodging, sunscreen
and gelato.

* But wait, there's more. Workers in Spain get additional paid time off
for moving or getting married. Workers in Norway get an extra week of
paid vacation once they turn 60. In Switzerland, workers under 30 can
earn an extra week off in exchange for volunteer
work. Everywhere you turn, it's like winning the vacation Powerball.

The workaholic side of me is faintly repelled. (How can you build
anything, invent anything, do anything, when everyone is always gone?)

The other side of me is profoundly jealous. It's the side that feels my
children growing up too fast and the news cycle moving too fast and the
overall economy seeming too hungry for people's undivided attention.
This is the side that is happy for a job but
always, always dreaming about time.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Oregon teachers who no longer have the
summers "off" because of the creep of professional responsibilities. Joe
Daniels of Beaverton responded to say that many people he knows are
constantly working -- often because, like him,
they love what they do and are very committed to their jobs.

"They barely can schedule time to take the vacations they earn," he
said, "and often surrender them because of the requirements of their
business."

I heard from others who sounded similarly American -- scrappy and
ambitious and unapologetic. I'd hate for our culture to lose that edge.
But still, when the sun comes out and the work remains, I sometimes
fantasize about vacationing in full Euro-style.